Dim dull red the evening sun,
That sets to rest where the mountains run.
Deep smoke blue the gathering night
That falls on the far off wild geese flight,
Through starry dusk and emptiness.

Cool misty dawns on silvered lakes,
Where the sedge grows green,
As the gold dawn breaks.

On an Autumn wind the wild geese fly,
Their feathered wings uplifting.
Up up and away to a turquoise sky,
Where the sunlit clouds are drifting.

They fly towards their journey's end,
A blue blue sea and a far off strand,
Where a sparkling sea, curls white lace foam,
On golden sands,
Beneath the noonday sun.

Beneath the noonday sun, where the wild geese rest,
When their long flights' done.